Chen Yan, hearing this, continued the conversation:
"How so, old sir?"
"For example, every person has a destiny ordained by Heaven!"
The old man glared with his dry, clouded eyes, yet when he spoke, he looked remarkably spirited:
"Every person's fate is decided by Heaven. How much food you'll eat, how much water you'll drink, how much sleep you'll get in your life, when you'll be born, when you'll die—it's all decided by Heaven!"
Hearing the old man's words, Chen Yan's expression grew more serious than before.
Then he nodded.
"That is indeed so."
The Heavenly Dao stood lofty, and causality was merciless.
Everything was fate. Everything had long since been predetermined.
Just as Chen Yan had seen within the Time Turbulence.
What he had seen was not merely the past and present.
There had also been the future.
Countless threads of causality tangled and intertwined, profoundly mysterious. Even with the Void Annihilation Method, it was difficult to glimpse more than a fraction of them.
But one thing was certain: everything had long since been decided.
Yet an ending that had already been determined did not mean one should be pessimistic. It did not mean effort was useless.
It was precisely because of one's will and efforts that the future already "fated" came to be.
That was also what Chen Yan had been doing through his endless cycles of reincarnation and save-loading.
"So, since everything is destined, whether it's life or death, there's simply nothing to fear!"
The old man in the field ridge continued.
"Old sir, you aren't afraid of death?"
Chen Yan asked.
"Not afraid!"
Puffing on his pipe, the old man answered with absolute certainty:
"What's so scary about death? This old fogey is already eighty-six this year. I've lived a full life already—there's nothing to fear!"